Expressions
by Nova Bucker
Summary: Series of oneshots connected to my other fic Despicably Me. Some will be centered around some of my OC's some of whom haven't been mentioned yet , some might be post-movie or canon-character related, some spoilers. Ch2: Ripley's just sick of it
1. Love

Expressions

Disclaimer: I own nothing except my OC's.

A/N: These are a series of oneshots I thought up in honor of my twisted OC's. Warning, some of these chapters may contain spoilers for my fanfiction Despicably Me. If you do not enjoy spoilers, then please read this _after_ a few more chapters of Despicably Me are posted. If you like spoilers or are a psychic, then read on! Please leave reviews! These oneshots will mostly revolve around Ripley, Kazimir, their Mother and a few characters whom have not been mentioned in Despicably Me as of yet. REVIEW PLZ!

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Chapter 1: Love

_Ripley's/Maruska's POV…_

Some days, when I'm not putting bullets through people's heads or cutting their throats to keep Mother happy, I wonder...

Does anyone love me?

Well, from what I've heard, your parents are supposed to love you. No matter what… So that begs the question…

Does my Mother love me?

But then, that begs the question, what is love anyway?

Is it the force that drives people to do irrational things for the personal sake of the person that 'love' is directed at? Is it that thing you know is missing, that should be there, instead of that aching, empty pit inside you?

The empty pit inside me…

I watch her, I think she knows that I do, when she trains my older brothers, minus Kazimir. I watch her correct their movements, her silent, stern nods of approval are so few and far between, but…

When she gives them to **you**, you know that you've made an accomplishment. You've exceeded her impossibly high expectations, and you have a bright future in her eyes.

When she looks at my older brothers, all she sees is promise, a practical fountain of untapped potential. But when she looks at me…

I'm no better than a stain on the wall…

I've known it for a long time, she **knows** that I know it.

That's why she dumped me with Kazimir, not that I'll ever complain about that.

I honestly preferred Kazimir's morbid humor, and twisted brand of brotherly affection. Where normal little girls got Barbie dolls, he gave me real shrunken heads, and scalpel knives to play with when I wasn't training or working.

When I would feel sad, he would take me to work with him, making me feel much better… Mostly because I wasn't the one screaming in agony on the operating table…

Then there was our Mother, I want her to look at me the way she looks at my brothers, just once. Was once just too much to ask?

Some days I wonder if its normal for a five year old to consider the possibility of shooting herself in the head, or just letting herself drown in the vat of cleaning chemicals down the hall.

Is it normal to narrate your life? To speak about yourself as if you weren't that person?

I remember, I asked my Mother today, in English, Kaz had been teaching me English… Maybe she'd be happy, I'd heard her telling my other brothers to learn German.

"Mu- Muh- Mother, will you ever l- lu- love me?"

Mother didn't answer me, she dismissed me quietly, as if she hadn't heard me.

The next day, I had a training session with her in hand-to-hand combat, I thought nothing of it. I thought, I hoped that maybe, maybe this was my Mother's answer to my question. Maybe she did love me…

I thought all this, disregarding the fact that our training sessions were so rare, it made endangered species look abundant. But no, I ignored that fact, and let the blooming hope in my chest blind me to good sense.

The day of the session, she broke both my legs, four ribs, cracked both shoulder blades, fractured my left arm in several places and snapped the wrist on my right.

At that moment, I never could classify if it was a blessing or curse that I was still conscious.

Mother grabbed my left hand, and snapped an index backwards, without even a flinch as the bone cracked and crunched brutally.

I screamed.

She looked at me with such cold eyes, I just wanted the cold eyes to stop, that was all, and she said, "Never."

Then she proceeded to break all my fingers, I was in tears after she snapped my thumb, I passed out after the forth…

I remember waking up in Kazimir's workshop, well, not his workshop, but his Med-Room. Kazimir was both an interrogator and a medic, it was probably the only reason his obvious insanity was tolerated.

He proceeded to tell me that I had slept for three weeks, and that he had tested some kind of surgical bone glue on me. It was typical news to me, every time Kazimir didn't have any other live subjects to test medical drugs on, I was his guinea pig.

Though I really don't mind, he treats me well enough, better than anybody really…

I recall my Mother's words, and it's as if this emptiness inside me had grown all the larger. Consuming more and more of me, dark, cold, devoid…

Kazimir tells me that I should be able to get out of bed, and hauls me into a wheelchair before I can protest. Like all the other times, I'm accustomed to Kazimir picking me up and carrying me to whatever crazy scheme he had cooked up this time.

He wheels me down to elevator, ignoring the looks from other passing agents.

As we descend to his personal workshop, Kazimir tells me that he has a surprise for me, that he made it especially for me.

But why would he make it for me? I'm not special, Mother doesn't love me, why should you? I wonder.

I see his face, giddy with a kind of twisted smile, like a broken mirror.

We walk down the hall, ignoring the screams of the prisoners being interrogated, and Kazimir wheels me into his personal work room.

What lay there would, I suppose disturb a normal person. But then again, I never admitted to being a normal person, did I?

Fresh blood spattered the walls in seemingly uneven strokes, and at the center were several mutilated bodies of former prisoners, expertly cut and sewn together in an odd shape than I couldn't make out…

Were I normal, I would've been beyond disgusted.

But then Kazimir says that I can't look at it from here, that I have to see it from the best vantage point. He wheels me up a precarious flight of stairs to what looks like an elevated platform, halfway up he tells me to close my eyes.

I comply.

When the terrain is once again flat, and Kazimir had come to a stop, he tells me to open my eyes.

I open them, and I **see**.

Spelled out in red, **'Happy Birthday, Maruska'**. In the center, the dead bodies had been reconstructed to form what looked like a complicated sunflower pattern.

I stare at it for a long time… I know I did.

Then I look at Kazimir's face, with his black hair and electric blue eyes, that… Incomprehensible look of fleeting joy that bordered upon a madness threatening to snap the taught string that held his fragile sanity together.

And for once I understood.

Then he told me that he'd gotten me a doll to go with the card, as he drags out a pale corpse.

The woman's skin is unblemished, she was rather tall, and unlike most corpses, was oddly limp instead of stiffened with rigor mortis. With curly blonde hair, and a rather pretty blue dress, she really was like a giant doll…

Kazimir smiled at me, and told me that he'd gotten lots of clothes to dress her in for me. That he had put a metal skeleton and joints to make her sit down for tea parties, and put a lot of preservative embalmment in and on her, so that she would last for a few weeks before she started to smell.

Then I saw the table, it was set up on the platform as well, with small amounts of chocolate cheese-cake and chocolate chip cookies on plates, along with glasses of milk and fruit juice.

Kazimir set up Gretta, my new doll, up on one of the chairs, and wheeled me to face the table…

From here I could still see my Birthday 'card' that covered the room, ignoring the coppery scent I had long grown accustomed to.

I looked long a hard at the blood spattering the wall, then at my newest doll.

It begged the question, how many brothers gave you giants dolls or giant cards for your birthday? How many put you back together with surgery?

As Kazimir talked about how he created my 'card' he used lots of hopping and emphatic hand gestures. I recalled my question, the question that still haunts my every step…

Does anyone love me?

Well then I'll have to repeat myself by asking, what is love?

Is it a hug? Or a kind gesture? Is it a heartfelt reassurance? Or a stern hand?

To me, I look at my Big Brother, and his card of spattered red, I look at the large corpse dollie that stares back at me with its lifeless eyes…

I look at the table with its assorted foods, ones that… I know my Brother knows that I adore….

I watch his lighted expressions, as the pride and joy dance across his expression.

I get up, and I hobble forward before he notices…

And I wrap my arms around him, not caring for once about touching his blood-soaked work apron, his mouth quirks a little, and he hugs me too.

And for a moment, in a world full of horror, blood, and insanity, everything was still.

Everything was right.

And, my chest felt at little less empty.

Better, when Kazimir's arms held me, I thought about the bloody card that covered the room, and my new dollie, I thought about his jibes and attempts to get me to help with his autopsies, to spend time with him…

He just… Wanted me to be a normal little girl… This was his attempt…

And I'll take it, Kazimir's twisted smiles, his unpredictable mood swings, and penchant for turning his interrogation assignments into works of art… I'll take it, if it kept the emptiness away…

I smiled as we ate cake together, and I laughed for the first time in my life.

And somewhere, deep inside me… I thought…

This is love.

My Big Brother loves me, he cares about what happens to me...

And it broke my heart because, I knew… I **knew** that it would never last…

Cause nothing good ever does.

No matter how much you beg, pray, and scream for the warmth to stay…

Cause that's love.

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A/N: I was having a melancholy attack okay? This is like a childhood memory of Ripley, her old name was Maruska, it's a Czech name that means 'bitter'. Kazimir(which is a Czech name that means, 'Great Destroyer) is her eldest brother, he was already mentioned in 'Despicably Me'. Yeah, you hate spoilers? Well too bad, I already warned you. Please leave reviews, and just to clarify, Ripley was a very twisted five and a half year old who grew up in a very twisted environment. In 'Despicably Me' she's grown up a lot, and is far more jaded than she is in this oneshot, as growing up does to us all at some point. So please REVIEW, I'd really appreciate it. 'Til next time, ciao!


	2. Sick

Expressions

Disclaimer: I own nothing except my OC's.

A/N: Okay ya'll I think this is becoming my melancholy dump or something, cause I only write this when I'm feeling depressed or melancholy… Anyways, please read, and review…

**Details(READ)** = This is set sometime during the course of my story "Despicably Me" starting during the seventh chapter, 'The Good Month' and onward to the scene of just before the recital(while Gru isn't there) before Vector shows up to kidnap the girls…

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Chapter 2: Sick  
_Ripley/Maruska's POV…_

I remember asking myself, so long ago…

What use are promises?

Words, noises made by our throats caused by messages from our brains. Who's to say we mean them?

I was promised the world, I was promised a home, I was promised love, I was promised a family, I believed those promises…

What a fool I was.

How many of those promises did I believe? From those smiling faces, those facades of happiness, surrounded by white-picket walls to hide the rotted core within?

How many times did I set myself up? To break, fall down once again, and shatter myself further?

I honestly never expected it, over the course of a month, I found myself feeling warmer than any other family I'd been adopted by.

All those girly tea parties, they reminded me of Kaz's attempts to give me a… Semblance of a childhood…

Creepy as they were.

It just didn't seem to fit, a Villain, formerly the Number One Villain in the world, sitting down with us, telling us to make clinking noises with our plastic teacups. Edith hadn't even minded the sheer over-girliness, I wondered what she'd been thinking at the time…

Somehow I wondered, when did I get swept up in the family scene again? When did I let my guard down? So far that it felt like at stab to the gut when I saw that familiar red car parked by the driveway?

When did I start setting myself up? Was it the day at the Funland pier? Was it when he showed off while flipping pancakes? Was it when for once in my life, I felt well-fed with food unspoiled by the tension in the air? Was it when I didn't feel pressured to snap and bite as viciously as I once did? Was it the tea parties or the breakfasts? Was it the marshmallows?

When did I forget the follies and scars that hope had brought me?

When did that long dead thing in my chest start beating again?

How long had it been since I'd ever admitted to myself that I wanted something that wasn't a material object?

Did I smile? I don't even remember, I only grin to intimidate people, I haven't smiled, not truly, except for a few select times…

When I smile, I never notice, not really…

I still remember concealing my shock when Agnes had first pointed out my smile, after she and her sisters had known me for only a couple of months. I never smile, I'm never happy, what's the point? Happiness is fleeting, it comes and goes with the circumstantial tide, why would I want something so unreliable?

So I'm still left asking myself? When had I grown attached? When had I decided, unconsciously, that I wanted to stay?

When had I let that fleeting shred of hope spark such anarchy within me?

Everything, so ordered, everything in its place, reactions, the way everything works… All expected, predictable, easily outmaneuvered, avoidable… Until a little over a month ago…

It defied reason, logic, everything that I had built up the world to be. It broke the RULES of the _freaking _UNIVERSE!

Yet again, I let that foolish longing in my chest cloud my judgment, now look where I am.

No, I won't look at your eyes as we leave, I will shut it out, the sound of Agnes's pleading, the bitter sadness in Margo's voice, Edith's confusion.

I won't listen to it anymore, I won't hear you lie anymore.

I won't listen to more promises, I won't be made promises that in the end leave me at the curbside…

I'm so tired, tired of scraping by, scrabbling, clawing for my place in this hellhole of a world. I feel so exhausted, the bruise on my face it feels like nothing now…

The promises made to me, by so many people, we can fix you? What was there to be fixed before they came? What wasn't broken when they left me, over and over again?

Abandoned, empty, bereft…

The litany of words that won't leave, and endless string of adjectives and verbs that echo through my tired brain…

Why did I think that this time would be different? That he, the Villain would keep us? And to a degree, keep me?

I loathe the selfish thoughts that plague me…

I want to be selfish again, how these objects entice me…

Objects cannot lie, they can't speak, they promise what they promise, because that's what they're for…

I shut out the voice of Margo, telling her sisters that our former adoptive father would not be here…

I ignore Agnes's hopeful voice, convincing their dance teacher to postpone the recital, buying the villain a few more minutes to show up…

Did you really think he'd show up? I feel this venomous jealously come over me, this biting bitterness that swallows and consumes me, that takes such effort to not voice.

Damn you, don't you get it? He was toying with us, he got lost in the act, then remembered what he really wanted, and traded us for it. Why wait? He's already tossed us out like garbage and you still, _stand_ there, stupidly thinking that he's going to _fucking_ show?

Yet, then, as my anger fades, I feel… Tired...

Exhausted, burnt out…

Where was that fire, the one that spurred me on, the little voice inside me that made me kick and scream against the tide of life?

The fire that kept me fighting, where was it now?

Even so, what good has it done me? Kept me alive long enough suffer, physically, mentally, and emotionally, almost every _freaking_ day of my life?

And now I stare at these objects, common as they are, from the inside of a closet.

A guilt comes over me, how cowardly I am, how selfish I am being…

And I wonder how Margo, Edith and Aggie will be, as I arrange these objects, their silent promises cutting into my soul…

As the music comes to a close, another number begins, of course there are other dancers, different age groups, to be ended with the Swan Lake number…

As I listen to the music of ballet, I imagine three princesses dancing, like the time Kaz put on a puppet show with preserved corpses for me…

The music soothes me, eases my anger, my bitter regret…

I pause for a few moments, I let the music hold me for a while longer…

But as it fades to silence, I can feel a bitter quiet fall…

As everyone is leaving, I shut the closet door…

I stand upon my wooden step, a well-used wooden chair.

I think back, the best month of my life, I had never felt such joy before, I had never felt like a child not truly. I had always felt like an adult in a child's body, I was fully expected to take care of myself.

Why did I let my guard down again?

Because I'm a hopeful idiot, because I'm a selfish, greedy little chit who doesn't know how to tell when enough is enough. A hopeful moron too stupid to use the common sense I was born with…

I can't say it was a blessing, how the hell could being aware of how much of the misery in my life was probably _my_ damn fault? Or that my life just… Sucked in general…

As I tie the final knot, I stand a little straighter…

Maybe this is for the best, maybe it won't be so bad…

I slip a little necklace of braided polyester round my neck and I feel my thoughts hurry along…

I remember Kaz, all my failed adoptions, the Villain who could've been my Dad, the family I had for a mere month…

It wasn't enough, it hadn't been nearly enough time.

I brought my foot to the edge of the chair, and remembered so much more…

The Mother who beat and abandoned me, the other brothers who ignored me, the adoptive parents who'd abused me, the so-called 'loving' parents who'd returned me, the pain, the confusion, the hurt…

But now, all I can think of is the three little dancers whose hearts may have been as broken as mine…

I feel guilty for being so selfish, for being this way…

I prepared to kick the chair out from under me, and made my decision.

But as my foot made in its arc, do I really have to say it?

Why did it take me so long to realize that...

I'm fucking _sick _of being abandoned, just let me hang.

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A/N: Okay, cliffhanger. Evil cliffie, but I REALLY wanted to write this, this is kind of like a filler cause I won't be concentrating on Ripley for that part so, WOOOO! I wrote something… Wow, I'm reaaaaallly bored right now… So, will Ripley live or die? Stay tuned with 'Despicably Me'! PLEASE REVIEW!


	3. Hollow

Expressions

Disclaimer: I own nothing except my OC's.

A/N: I'm writing KAZ! WOOO! He's actually going to fun and difficult to write, but have fun and REVIEW PLZ!

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Chapter 3: Hollow

_Kazimir's POV…_

I watched over her.

_You let her suffer._

I loved, no still love, my little sister.

_You let them destroy her childhood._

I want the best for little Maruska, I want to see her smile…

_Monster._

I feel that dark rage, it fills me every time I rescue her from certain death…

_You could've stopped it._

So much of her blood…

_Admit, you enjoy being her hero._

I patch her together again, wait for her to wake.

_It makes you feel useful._

The one person I'll never harm…

_Yet you allow her soul to die every day._

A little more of that light leaves you, you falter, flinch, I watch the world further jade you, scar you for all eternity.

_Just like you._

I want to see your eyes light up with hope again, like when you thought Mother would say what we both longed to hear…

_Selfish._

Psychology books say that insane people don't know that they're insane, does that mean I am sane?

_Maybe._

I really am a monster Maruska, I find myself enjoying every scream I wrench from the horrible people I interrogate. Marsuka deserves better…

_But she got you instead, and it makes you feel like a savior._

Why? All you wanted was Mother to love her, to be proud of her. I had wanted it too, still want it in fact…

_Foolish._

But Mother feared me more than she loved me, because I am considered unstable… A loose cannon.

_Truth._

Maruska, I watch your eyes light up at the sight of your favorite desserts, and serve juice to your new dollies... I see a little girl, who deserves _more_, more than the crap life has dished her.

_She does._

I give all I have, and realize that it's not enough. It's less than you deserve my little sister, it's far less than that.

_Too little._

And as I watch the trials of our lives chip another irreplaceable piece of your innocence away, another piece of your soul lost to the sands of time, I realize something…

I am empty.

_Does Maruska know as well?_

I go to bed every night, and see this horrible bloodstained _thing_ in the mirror, empty soulless eyes staring back at me from the mirror. A conscience ignorant of the screams of agony and ears deaf to the pleas for mercy that follow it all day. I look up many things about the life of civilians, I bring Maruska to interact with the outside world in missions, but…

_You know it's not enough._

It's not enough. Not nearly.

I watch the light in your eyes extinguish, I feel the little heart I have left shatter with it.

I know you, but I don't know you.

I wish my hugs would ward off the nightmares that plague your dreams, I wish that my smiles would encourage you…

I wish…

_Wishing is a fool's hope…_

I wish I had more to give you...

_I don't even have two pieces of sanity to rub together._

I'm so sorry Maruska, I'm sorry I can't make you laugh like a child your age…

_How can I make another laugh, when I can't even do so myself?_

I'm sorry that I can't make the monsters go away…

_They'll haunt you forever._

I'm sorry that I couldn't stop you from hurting…

_I am a coward._

I couldn't prevent all those scars…

_Tears are for the weak…_

I'm so, infinitely sorry… That I…

_I'm a monster, monsters can't love._

I'm sorry that I couldn't give you the love you needed…

_I have nothing left to give._

I don't have any more of my soul left to give you…

I'm just, empty, hollow…

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A/N: Okay, UBER sadness chappie. But I was having an EMO moment, this was done in Kazimir's(Ripley's eldest brother) POV! I haven't gone into a lot of detail about him yet and I've drawn him a couple of times, but that's about it, I won't spoil you guys too much. Anyways, please review and TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK!

**POLICY:** NO FLAMES! CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM ONLY! REVIEW!


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